


Reelas: Take the fall

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, One-AMbound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How a young goldblood became a slave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reelas: Take the fall

**Reelas: Take the fall.**

You aren't completely sure what that means, but according to the other guys in your holding cell, that's what you're about to do. You're the youngest one in the group, everyone else being well over nine sweeps, some much, much older. You are only around three sweeps. You are scared, confused, and not entirely sure what is going on. And you've every right to be. You'd been dragged out of your hive rather suddenly, at the crack of dusk, by a scary-looking tealblood in an official-looking uniform, while your lusus was dragged off somewhere by a greenblood in a threshecutioner's shroud. Thrown in a holding cell with a bunch of other trolls-- actual criminals!-- with no explanation. You're going to admit, you'd be a little pissed, if you weren't so befuddled.

You do not have time to stay befuddled. You spend the time you are in the cell mostly sleeping in the corner. You'd been dragged out awfully early, after all. Surprisingly, no one messes with you. You are left alone for the most part; everyone seems keen on keeping to themselves. There isn't a clock. You aren't sure how much time passes between the small moments where you manage to be groggily half-awake. It feels like seconds, but you know it's likely hours, mostly by the fact that every time you open your eyes, there's one less troll in the cell. You aren't sure if you find this encouraging, or terrifying.

Your turn comes soon enough. By the time the door opens and they call you out, there are only a couple of trolls left in the cell. You were beginning to think you'd be last. You aren't sure if you are relieved or not. They do not put you in restraints, which is reassuring. You aren't perceived as a threat, in part due to your age. Probably due to your blood, too. You likely couldn't cause any trouble even if you had intentions to do so. The trial is meant to be cut and dry, though, and you do not think it wise to change this.

You are led down a hallway. Long, dark. A little cold; it's probably designed for the comfort of the highbloods who regular it, or maybe for the exclusive discomfort of the lowbloods who wind up in it. You keep your back straight and try not to shiver. You pull a poker face, which despite your age is something you manage well, probably due to your odd, blank eyes. No one says a word the entire way, yourself included, until you reach the door. One of your escorts-- the cobalt lady to your left-- pauses, crouching down to your level. She's plain, long haired and sharp-fanged, but the look on her face is not precisely unfriendly.

"Listen, kid. This trial isn't for you. It's a blameshift. Just agree with what they say, and you might just get some time instead of a culling. Alright?"

You do not know what this means, so you simply agree.

She stands and exchanges a look with the indigo-blood to your right, and they lead you into the courtroom. You cannot think of a single place you would not rather be than here. The room is large, expansive. The back wall is filled pew-to-pew with trolls of varying colours, mainly green or higher. You can't make out any of their faces from here, but you are almost certain that you are being scrutinised; glared at, even. You have no idea why. At the front of the courtblock, several purplebloods stand, and you freeze as fear seizes your heart. Someone is oozing chucklevoodoo hard, and while it occurs to you to think this, it does not make you feel any better. You feel like you are going to be sick. You want to go home.

You are led behind a stand, and a tall tealblooded man crosses the courtblock with a file in his hands. He looks confident, if a bit bored. You have trouble telling; you aren't quite tall enough to see over the stand properly. He calls out to the crowd, saying something quick that you don't quite catch. There's a roaring response of approval, and everyone sits down but for you, the teal legislascerator, and the wall of subjugglators. The large, iron doors at the front of the court are wrenched open with a loud creak, the type of bending-metal noise that makes you wince. You grit your teeth, but you can't quite look away. The noise is followed by a loud screeching roar as the largest, most horrifying creature you have ever seen drags itself out.

"His Honourable Tyranny demands order!" a subjugglator in elaborate robes calls.

The crowd goes silent, and you glance at the tealblood for something other than the creature to stare at. He clears his throat, opening the file.

"Accused number 1928347-b. Symbolhight: Kamaya, Hatching name: Reelas. Is this correct?" He looks directly at you, and your mouth goes incredibly dry. You do not find yourself with an abundance of words, so you simply nod.

"You have been called to trial today to answer for the crimes of accused number 1928347-a, Seniko Kamaya, in his absence," the legislascerator continues. You swear you hear hissing from the crowd, but it is drowned out by the angry roar of His Honourable Tyranny, and a cry of "Order!" from the purple-blood. The legislascerator disregards this completely.

"Mr. Kamaya has been accused and confirmed for countless crimes against the Alternian Empire and the Most Holy Church of the Mirthful Messiahs, including but not limited to: Class A Piracy, Unlawful culling, Class S Heresy, the vehement disrespect of the hemospectrum, Resisting apprehension, possession and distribution of illicit substances, and Class B Treason. In the absence of the proper witnesses, a plea of guilty is submitted by default. However, for the same reasons, proper justice cannot be served," the tealblood saunters across the courtblock to stop in front of you, giving you a decidedly condescending look.

"Reelas Kamaya, do you so choose to answer for your symbolmatch's crimes on this plea, in avoidance of a separate trial?"

It takes you a moment to realise that this is a question. An option. You think about it, and almost consider answering no, but the cobalt-lady's words come back to you. Just agree to it. Right. You nod again, biting your lip.

"Y-yes, sir,"

He offers a smile, but it does not seem the least bit friendly. It's more the smile of someone who has found something convenient, rather than the type to signal that you've done something right.

"Good. Honourable choice. Do you offer remorse for your associative crimes?"

You nod again. He seems to mull this over, then looks back, receiving a nod from the purpleblood in the robes.

"Mr. Kamaya, what is your registered Psion level?"

You give a faintly confused look. Something like that is usually on your ID sheet, but you suppose it's possible that they either hadn't factored it in, or simply hadn't looked.

"Seven," you reply.

He nods, then crosses back to stand in front of the writhing monstrosity that is His Honourable Tyranny. The purplebloods convene, saying things you do not understand or catch, before they nod to the indigoblood standing by your stand. He glances at you before taking a loose grip of your arm, dragging you forward until you stumble. You are placed on the front platform, directly in front of His Honourable Tyranny. It takes everything in your power not to scream or cry. The monster leans forward, examining you. The red plates of his chitin gleam like fire. He scrutinises you, inches from your face, giving you a good sniff. You can't help it. You sob.

His Honourable Tyranny lets out a blood curdling screech, then backs up, docile. You are skeptical. The crowd seems confused. Even the purpleblooded priest appears in mild shock. You have earned His Honourable Tyranny's approval, apparently. The tealblood takes a moment to recompose himself, then turns to the crowd, clearing his throat.

"Objections?" he calls. There are none. He adjusts his spectacles, then looks towards you.

"Reelas Kamaya, you are sentenced to life in Class C servitude. Dismissed,"

You open your mouth to question what that means, but you do not have the chance. The indigoblood promptly grabs your wrists, snapping some kind of odd cuff on each of them. You immediately lose your balance. Psion blockers are a bitch, especially for first-timers. Though most are not consciously aware of it, any troll with psionic abilities will use them unconsciously to sense the world around them. Cutting them off will throw even the most collected troll off. You stumble, horribly dizzy, as you are led out of the courtblock. A collar is applied to your neck, and you are placed in a small, clear box with small holes in the side. You do not see your lusus. You are not sent home. Instead, you are loaded into a small cargo ship, with a few other trolls in similar boxes, all with similar collars. They glare at you when you ask them where you are. You hear someone mutter the word 'property' and you feel your bloodpusher sink into your gut.

Your name is Reelas Kamaya and you hate your life.

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to OneAM-bound
> 
> http://oneamcomics.tumblr.com/


End file.
